


i'm here to give you love (and never lose ya)

by j_gabrielle



Series: perhaps, this [6]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Domestic, Eh. Some, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Future Mpreg, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, mainly just, practice safe sex y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: T’Challa wants to spend the rest of his life like this; between his husband’s thighs, eating him out as he screams his pleasure to the heavens.





	i'm here to give you love (and never lose ya)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'The Ways' by Khalid & Swae Lee

T’Challa wants to spend the rest of his life like this; between his husband’s thighs, eating him out as he screams his pleasure to the heavens. 

“T’Challa! Please don’t tease, please!” Erik begs, muscles flexing when he curls and uncurls himself into the insistent press of T’Challa's tongue in him. “I can’t-“ He chokes on the syllable, babbling nonsensically as he shakes. Chuckling, the King moves back just to bite down on the flesh of Erik’s ass.

“Hush now, my love. I told you, didn’t I? On our wedding day, I promised you I would map every inch of you with my mouth. And haven’t I shown you that I am a man of my word, hm?” T’Challa coos, smoothing his thumb over an indentation of his teeth. Perhaps Shuri had been correct in saying that he had a thing for marking his Consort up.

A flare of possessiveness burns bright behind his eyes. Of course he has. It is irrational, but he can’t remember a life without Erik. T’Challa wants Erik, needs him with a vicious burn that he has never felt for anything or anyone in his life before. 

No one else gets to see Erik had smiling softly, tucking his sleepy face into his pillow as T’Challa kisses him awake in the morning. Or the way when Erik is focused on his reading, it takes all of his prowess and kisses to distract him, if at all. No one gets to have the knowledge of how Erik looks when he comes, the way he sings off-tune in their shower, or the way he likes his coffee. And if he has his way, no one ever will.

Erik moans, voice catching brokenly on a syllable of his name. “Am I hurting you?” T’Challa asks, concern overriding the urges to animalistic urges to fuck and claim and mark. “My love?” He climbs over Erik only to be manhandled onto his back. He laughs.

“Sneaky. Insatiable.” T’Challa teases. Erik huffs, throwing a leg over him. As he reaches to rummage through their bedside drawer for the lube, T’Challa takes the chance to mouth at his neck, biting down and sucking hard.

“Half your council think I have been mauled by an animal every time I see them.” Erik wriggles when T’Challa scrapes his teeth over a particularly ticklish spot.

“Let them.” T’Challa hums, running his hands up his fevered skin. “I am, after all, the Panther.”

Erik rolls his eyes, but any sting is softened by the curve of his lips. “Of course you are. So are your kitty claws gonna prep me for your big kitty cock or do I have to do everything by myself?”

“Demanding minx.” T’Challa smiles, but takes the bottle from Erik and proceeds to coat his finger. Nudging Erik to climb a little higher over him, he coaxes a two fingers in.

Erik hisses, clenching. The headboard takes a heavy knock against the wall. Strong thighs tremble on either side of T’Challa’s head. He centres him with a hand to his hip. Suckling on Erik’s Adonis belt, he grins, looking up at his husband’s flushed and sweaty face looking down at him.

The cock nudging against his cheek jumps, smearing pre-come on his face when his nails brushes up against the familiar nub in Erik. Pumping his fingers, he scissors them irregularly, twisting in just the way he has learnt to pleasure his husband. Using the barest hints of teeth, he hums, the sound swallowed up by Erik’s broken pleads and nonsensical curses.

T’Challa is consumed with his task. Stopping only when he feels shaky fingers tug insistently at his ear. “T’Challa stop. Baby, please. Stop. I want to come with you in me. Stop.” Erik pants, cupping his cheek. T’Challa nods and pulls away, noting Erik’s wince and the popping of his joints when the other lies back down on the bed. 

Erik tucks his hands under his knees, drawing them up and exposing himself. It is nothing T’Challa has never seen before in the light of day or in the dark of night, but the way that Erik does it with pure trust in his eyes intoxicates him each and every time. A swell of emotion threatens to overtake him while he moves into the secret cove of Erik’s hips.

“I love you.” He says, positioning himself to enter Erik. “I love you so very much.”

At this, Erik smiles, soft and shy. Eyes like saucers, happy, as he says, “And I, you.”

T’Challa pushes into him with practiced ease. With each inch that feeds into Erik, he falls languid in his arms. They have only started having sex without the aid of a condom recently. Finally getting the all clear from the lab to begin trying for a child. T'Challa had assured Erik that they didn't have to, what it being only almost a year to the day they first met. That they were young, in love and had many more years to try for an heir. But his Consort, his handsome and darling husband had merely smiled and told him that he wanted to have many children with the King, so why shouldn't they start now?

He moves his arms to support Erik’s legs, folding him even further in half. Hands freed, Erik rests one at T’Challa's nape, nails scratching lazily as T’Challa makes love to him just as slow and saccharine sweet as their morning has been. "So beautiful." He murmurs, eyes raking over Erik's face. Sweat is beading on his brow, dripping onto Erik's.

T’Challa shudders when Erik flexes his inner muscles around him. Eyes closing, he tucks his face to the jut of Erik’s shoulder, mouth moving to gather flesh, biting down. Erik takes himself in hand, jerking himself off in time to T’Challa’s thrusts before he tenses, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut as his breath whistles out of his lips.

His Consort falls limp in his arms, exhausted. T’Challa pushes up, panting, pulling back, losing the slow rhythm of his hips, riding the residual high of Erik’s orgasm to frantically reach his own.  His feet scramble on the bedsheets, fucking erratically into Erik. Too soon, his hips stutter of their own accord. T’Challa groans, breathless as he feels his limbs liquify, pumping his seed into Erik.

He slumps forth, caging him in an embrace. Erik isn’t a slight man by any measure of the word, but it doesn’t mean that T’Challa does not relish the curl of pleasure at the way he has him under his body. Perfect, like he was made to be held in T'Challa's arms.

“T’Challa?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You’re heavy.”

T’Challa laughs, brushing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, tongue licking at the beginnings of a morning stubble before carefully peeling himself away.

He moves back to gently extricate himself from Erik, feeling keenly for the warmth and snugness of his ass. Pressing another kiss to the insides of Erik’s thighs, T’Challa climbs off the bed and goes to the ensuite to clean himself up and brush his teeth thoroughly.

“Can I kiss you now?” Erik asks sleepily when he returns with a wet cloth. Charmed, T’Challa leans down, slotting their mouths together. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” T’Challa replies into their kiss before moving away to methodically clean his husband up. Gently massaging his hips, the lines of his thighs, his knees, he is rewarded with a happy sigh. Kissing him once more before he leaves the bed, he drops the wet cloth in their shared laundry basket.

By the time he gets back from his shower, Erik is half asleep again. Sighing fondly, he dresses quietly. “I have to go.” He whispers, stroking the hair from his Consort’s face. “Come have lunch with me.”

“I don’t think I can move.” Erik mumbles against the pillow. “You’ve broken me.”

“Mm. And I’ll put you back to rights again.” T’Challa laughs, leaning back down for one last lingering and drawn out kiss. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Erik merely rolls over in reply. T’Challa smiles, content as he leaves their room for the day.

**Author's Note:**

> I really want to say I'm super proud that I wrote this, but the emotions in me right now are just mainly 'oh god I wrote', muttered with feeling. 
> 
> Please practice safe sex everyone. Rimming is all fun and good, but make sure you and your partner are tested before going forth with any unprotected sex. Make sure it’s all clean (and I really do mean Clean with a capital ‘C’) down there before you put your mouth to anyone’s ass. But above all else, remember to have fun and to respect your partner’s boundaries xx
> 
> You can leave me some moodboard requests [Here](http://hardheartshere.tumblr.com/ask) or you can leave me some fic requests [Here](http://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/ask)


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